Gramer Nazy
I'm alright I guess
I've just been playing games
Nothing else much

uoYkcuF
Cool

Gramer Nazy
I've been reflecting on the person I am
and I've become someone that I like more.

uoYkcuF
Good

Gramer Nazy
What're you doing right now?
Besides talking to me

uoYkcuF
In bed

Gramer Nazy
What are you doing
What's in your room?

uoYkcuF
A bed, a dresser and boxes

Gramer Nazy
How long have the boxes been there?

uoYkcuF
Since Mom died
Almost 3 weeks

Gramer Nazy
What's in them?

uoYkcuF
Her stuff

Gramer Nazy
Sorry
What made you wanna talk to me again?

uoYkcuF
Haven't you been off a while

Gramer Nazy
I'm always on
I changed my pfp
But I've always just been hanging out

uoYkcuF
Ok

Gramer Nazy
you tried writing any poems?

uoYkcuF
No

Gramer Nazy
Wanna give it a shot?

uoYkcuF
Sure.

Gramer Nazy
You wanna write one together?

Tell me how much privacy you really have.

Because, making your account private, deleting your PFP, and restricting or blocking unwanted accounts don't seem to stop the creeps.

Sometimes, I feel violated because of certain comments. And the thing is, I haven't asked anyone to text me nor have I made any advances. I'm here to post poetry, write from my heart and maybe put it out there for you to read, if you'd want to.

That's all. Nothing that would warrant unnecessary DMs.

This hapenned to my cousin. Well, almost to every girl/ woman I know.

Maybe it's our fault posting? Or maybe we shouldn't even have social media accounts.

But my mom had calls to her private number. Tell me, how does one find it? How do s one get rid of these roaches?

I know there's no fault of mine. But I can't help but feel there is some part here.

Maybe being closed off and cold might help, I wonder. It doesn't.

Then what will?

You bloomed
from the shadows of loss,
but forgot
I was the light you stood under
when you didn’t know what "growth" meant.

You changed your pfp,
switched the fits,
rewrote the plot like
you ain’t the one who quit.

But here’s the twist:
I was the plot twist you couldn’t handle,
not the sidekick in your little scandal.
You dressed new, posed new, posted new
but I outgrew you
in silence.

Now you say you're healing?
Funny.
'Cause I was bleeding while you were busy ghost-reading
my texts like they weren’t worth a scene.
Now you're serene?
Nah.

You don’t miss me.
You miss the version of you I believed in.
You miss the mirror I held up
when the world saw through you
and I still stayed.

You’re blooming now  cool.
But I was the rain.
I was the one dancing in the storm
while you just stayed dry,
numb to my pain.

You don’t get to cry
about the garden
after killing the gardener.

So yeah, go write your quotes.
Go wear your dress.
But don’t forget
my peace started
the moment your version of love ended.

You had real.
You let it rot.
Now I’m gone
and I swear to God...

You won’t find me
in your next plot.